The Unusual Adventures of Betsy
[2001, Girl’s Monthly Gazette]
Episode 1
(In writing this story I have set out to include most of the unusual characters and ideas my brothers and I have thought up over the years while being silly. The paragraphs in italic are intended to be understood as that which goes on “behind the scenes”. I would like to dedicate this story to my brother big Jon, who has made growing up together a lot of fun.)
Once upon a time there was a little girl named Betsy. She lived in a small stone cottage with her father, mother, baby brother, her cat Tom, and her canary.
One summer morning while Betsy was outside reading Alice in Wonderland under the old willow tree, Tom jumped up onto the table beside the canary’s cage. Betsy had scolded him time and again for batting at Cheery’s tail, but he just couldn‘t resist teasing the bird. After a few minutes, however, an unexpected thing happened. Cheery’s cage toppled over with a CRASH.
The loud noise brought Betsy in from outside. “Oh dear!” she cried at the sight that met her eyes.
At that moment the paper boy was riding past on his bicycle. Absorbed in reading the comic section spread out over the handle bars, he unfortunately did not notice that the door was wide open, the way Betsy had left it in her haste. His expert throw took the paper easily through the open doorway and across the room.
Betsy was just about to return Cheery to the table when the tightly rolled-up paper hit the cage. The impact knocked open the cage door and the terrified canary flew out, squawking in fright. He flew around the room several times before escaping out the door.
“Cheery, come back!” Betsy called frantically after him. She ran out the door in time to see him disappearing into the forest north of the cottage.
She dashed into the forest after him. “Here, Cheery,” she called every few yards down the path.
After walking for several hours she came to a clearing in the woods. On the other side of the meadow she saw a girl about 16 years old sitting on a rock. She was dressed like a shepherdess and held a long wooden staff in her hand.
It was late afternoon by that time and Betsy was very discouraged. She decided to ask the shepherdess if she had seen Cheery.
She stepped out of the woods and began to cross the clearing. After a few steps over the lush green grass, however, she felt something warm and wooly against her legs that she did not see. She lost her balance and tripped over it, falling flat on her face.
When she tried to sit up, she discovered that she was tangled with the soft wooly object she had tripped over. A soft “baaaaa” sounded close to her ear.
The shepherdess noticed the confusion and came running up. She lifted the invisible object off Betsy.
Betsy was amazed to see the girl holding and stoking the empty air. She got to her feet.
“My name is Johannasphere. Are you hurt?” asked the shepherdess. “I’m afraid you tripped over Clover.”
“No, I’m fine,” Betsy replied. “But who is Clover? I don‘t see anyone here except you and me.”
The pretty shepherdess laughed. “Clover is one of my sheep. I understand your confusion.” She smiled proudly, “I own the only flock of invisible sheep in the world.”
“I’ve never heard of invisible sheep before,” Betsy commented thoughtfully. “Were they born that way?”
“No,” Johannasphere replied, “they once accidentally ate some grass which was coated with invisible paint. They’ve been this way ever since. What brings you to this part of the forest?”
“I’m looking for my lost bird. Have you seen a small, yellow canary today?” Betsy asked hopefully.
“Yes, I have!” Johannasphere
answered. “It flew across the clearing and along the path towards
“Thank you very much!” Betsy said excitedly. “Goodbye!”
“I hope you find him,” Johannasphere called after her. Then she cried out abruptly, “Watch out for-”
But her warning came too late. Betsy tripped over another invisible sheep and tumbled to the ground in a disorderly heap.
“-Fuzzy-wuzzy,” the shepherd girl finished lamely.
This time Betsy was able to get untangled without assistance. She waved a sheepish farewell to kind Johannasphere and started off into the forest again.
“Oohhh, what an awful pun!” Betsy groaned.
“It’s not our fault,” the Written-Bys protested. “It was the only word we could think of.”
The forest was shady and cool and the birds were twittering in the trees. Had Betsy not been so worried about her pet, she would have enjoyed the pleasant walk along the pine needle carpeted path.
The path wound in and out among the trees. For a moment there was a little brook running alongside the path, but soon its course turned and Betsy lost sight of it.
Then she saw a cave to the right of the path. There was a man standing to one side of the dark, yawning entrance. He wore medieval costume complete with a plumed hat and sword.
Betsy stepped off the path towards him. “Hello,” she said.
“Good afternoon, fair maiden,” he replied with a sweeping bow.
“Who are you?” Betsy asked curiously.
“My business card,” he said, handing her a gilt-edged card with a flourish.
She read: “Fred, Professional Dragon Slayer.”
“How do you do, Mr. Fred?” she returned politely. “My name is Betsy. My canary escaped and I’m looking for him. Have you seen a small yellow bird?”
“As a matter of fact, I have,” the professional dragon slayer answered. “It flew into that cave only a few minutes ago.” His expression was grave, “I’m afraid that’s bad, however. There is a fierce talking dragon living in that cave which I have been hired to capture. I’ve heard that its favorite thing to eat is canaries.”
“Oh!” cried Betsy in horror. “I must save my poor Cheery!” She started towards the cave.
“I will go with you. I must capture the dragon anyway, and you will need someone to protect you.” Fred drew a feather duster from his belt and picked up a pitcher from the ground. He lit a torch and handed it to Betsy.
Together they advanced into the cave. By the flickering light of the torch Betsy saw a huge green dragon lying on the cave floor several yards away. Its scales glinted with a metallic shine. It looked up at them lazily and made a small puff of smoke.
“What do you want?” it growled in a deep, menacing voice.
Fred stepped forward, slightly. “We have come to capture you. A wealthy princess has hired me to bring you to her palace for her pet.”
The dragon growled again and said, “You’ll have to capture me first, though.” A little flame of fire jetted out of his mouth.
Fred stepped back and whispered something to Betsy. He handed her the pitcher, which was full of water. Then they both stepped up to the dragon again.
“If you don’t surrender, I will tickle you under the chin!” Fred waved the feather duster threateningly.
“You Written-Bys sure don’t know anything about capturing dragons,” the fire-breathing monster moaned.
The dragon recoiled momentarily but then said, “Try it and I’ll burn your little feather duster to a crisp.”
Fred stepped forward and made a motion as if he were going to do it. Flames shot from the dragon’s mouth, but Fred jerked the duster back just in time. At the same instant, Betsy poured the entire pitcher full of water into
the dragon’s open mouth. The fire was immediately quenched.
The professional dragon slayer stepped forward again and began tickling the dragon under the chin. Betsy had put out the reserve of fire in its stomach and it was helpless.
“Oh– hee, hee, hee– stoppp!” it gasped for breath. “Please– ho, ho– I can’t take this!”
“Do you surrender?” Fred asked sternly.
“Y-yes! Hee, hee, ho, ho!” it bellowed.
So Fred the Professional Dragon Slayer put away the feather duster and placed a large metal collar around the dragon’s neck. He attached a chain-link leash to the collar.
“Mr. Dragon,” Betsy began nervously, “did a— did you happen to see a yellow canary fly in here a few minutes ago?”
The dragon replied, “Yes, it was a very tasty looking bird.” He sighed mournfully. “But it flew back into the depths of the cave where I could not follow it and I was not able to catch it.” He pointed with his claw to the back of the cave.
Betsy gave a sigh of pure relief. “I’m so glad you didn’t eat my poor Cheery,” she said.
Then Fred the Professional Dragon Slayer said goodbye to Betsy and thanked her for her help. He wanted to take the dragon to the palace of the princess who had hired him before it got dark.
“Goodbye,” she called out to him as he left. “And goodbye, to you too, Mr. Dragon.”
Then she went to the back of the cave and entered the tunnel that the dragon had pointed to. She wandered up and down a series of damp, narrow passages with only the light of the torch to guide her.
After a while she realized that she was hopelessly lost in the maze of twisting passages.
“Oh, dear,” she sighed, sitting down on a rock. “Will I ever see Cheery again?”
Episode 2
Betsy looked around her in despair. She was completely lost in the labyrinth of dark underground passages!
Then, something halted her searching gaze. Was that a light she saw off to her left? Her heart beat with growing excitement and she strained to listen. She heard voices, and gradually they got louder as the light also grew bigger and brighter.
She heard, “Tom, I tell you this is amazing! Here it is almost bedtime and not a single strange thing has happened to me yet.”
A boy’s voice returned a laughing reply, “Well, if I know you, Sarah May, you’ll probably find an elephant in your sleeping bag tonight, or something just as ridiculous!”
“I know,” The girl chuckled back. “And I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised, either!”
Betsy called out quickly, “Hello there! I’m lost! Can you help me? Over here!” She waved her torch back and forth.
“We see your torch,” Sarah May replied. “We’re coming!”
Soon Betsy saw Sarah May and her brother round a stalagmite to her left.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” Betsy said, “but I lost my way. Could you direct me to the exit of this cave?”
“Why, certainly!” Sarah May replied. “My name is Sarah May and this is my brother Tom. We were on our way back to camp anyway.”
“Oh, thank you!” Betsy said gratefully. “I am looking for my lost canary,” she explained. “Have you seen a yellow bird today?”
“We have!” Sarah May cried.
“Yes, it flew out the cave entrance by our camp just as we were entering the cave. That was about a half an hour ago,” Tom added.
“Come on!” Sarah May took Betsy’s hand. “Let’s hurry. We’ll help you look. Maybe your bird is still around camp.”
“Thank you!” Betsy said again.
They walked quickly down the passage, Tom in the lead. To Betsy’s surprise, the cave entrance was only about two dozen yards away.
When they emerged from the cave, Betsy saw that Sarah May’s family’s camp was set up in the clearing around the cave entrance.
Sarah May and her brother took her over to where their parents were sitting beside the campfire. Together they told them about Betsy’s search for her canary.
Then the three children examined the area surrounding the camp as well as they could in the fading sunlight of the evening. Finally they gave up.
“It’s no use,” Betsy sighed. “It’s too dark to see hardly anything now.”
Sarah May’s mother said to Betsy, “Why don’t you spend the night here with us? There is room for you in Sarah May’s tent, and we have an extra sleeping bag.”
“Thank you very much!” Betsy said gratefully. She had been walking nearly all day and the thought of going to bed, even in a sleeping bag, was an inviting one.
Sarah May’s mother soon had a large ham sandwich and tall glass of milk before Betsy, which she ate with relish. Then she went to bed in Sarah May’s tent. For a while Betsy’s worry about her bird kept her awake, but her long walk that day made her very tired and she soon dropped off to the land of nod.
Late that night, several hours after Sarah May and Betsy had fallen asleep, they were awakened by a noise. To their surprise they saw that a bear had stuck its big furry head through the tent flap. Betsy’s heart began to beat rapidly.
“Excuse me,” the bear said again a little timidly. I think I left my false teeth in this tent when I took a nap here this afternoon.
“Oh, alright,” Sarah May replied placidly.
The bear climbed clumsily into the tent, careful not to step on the quaking Betsy.
“Here they are,” it said, and drew a large pair of false teeth from under a leaf in the back of the tent. “Thank you,” the bear said. “Pleasant dreams.” It popped back out of the tent again.
“Another normal day,” Sarah May mumbled to herself as she rolled over and went back to sleep.
The next morning after an early breakfast Betsy bid Sarah May and her family goodbye.
“It’s too bad our friend Joe Bloop, the detective won’t be here until tomorrow,” Sarah May said. “He is taking a vacation from his detective business and plans to spend some of it camping with us. I’m sure he could find your canary without any trouble at all. His methods are unusual but I have never known him to be wrong.”
“Goodbye, and thank you for everything,” Betsy said as she left the campsite.
“Goodbye!” they all called after her.
Not knowing where else to go, Betsy took the only path leading away from the clearing. It was a bright, beautiful morning, but Betsy was too worried about her canary to really enjoy what would otherwise have been a pleasant walk in the woods.
After a little while
she came to a split in the path. The sign for the left fork said, “
After a little
though Betsy decided to take the trail to
When she arrived at the town twenty minutes
later she saw that it was a small town with Drake’s General Store, a post
office, Town Hall, a school building, and a tiny hotel comprising the length of
Betsy began querying the people walking along the sidewalk about her canary. Again, and again, however, the answer was negative. It seemed that no one in the town had seen a canary recently.
Finally she gave up in despair. She was beginning to feel that her search was a hopeless one.
“I’ll go back to the split in the path and try the path to Wallenbash. If no one there has seen Cherry, I shall just have to admit defeat and go home,” she said to herself sadly.
“Excuse me, miss,” said a Man in Overalls to Betsy. He and another Man in Overalls picked up the false front of the general store which Betsy was standing in front of and began to carry it off the set.
“Hey, wait minute!” cried the Written-bys. “What are you doing?”
“The payment on these is overdue,” one of the Men in Overalls said.
“But I need them for the story!” the Written-bys protested. “Just give me time. I’ll pay as soon as I have the money.”
“Sorry mister, but our orders are to collect these,” came the unsympathetic reply as the Men in Overalls carried away the sidewalk.
So Betsy left the now ghost town and retraced her steps back to the fork in the path.
“I may as well stop here and eat lunch,” she said, for it was nearly noon. She pulled out of her pocket the sandwich Sarah May’s mother had wrapped up for her that morning.
Just then she saw a man coming up the path from Wallenbash. He wore a brown tweed suit with a matching Sherlock Holmes cap. He was carrying a large battered suitcase and a magnifying glass.
“A most unusual case! The way Mrs. Dabille’s poodle wagged its tail showed beyond doubt the identity of the thief who had stolen her diamond necklace,” Betsy heard him mumble to himself.
“Excuse me, sir,” she said. “I’m looking for my lost canary. Have you seen it?”
“Aha!” he cried. “The Case of the Missing Canary. Stolen or kidnapped, no doubt.”
“No, he escaped from his cage,” Betsy explained. “Have you seen a yellow canary along the trail or in Wallenbash?”
“Is that a ham and cheese sandwich you’re eating?” the man asked excitedly.
“Yes,” Betsy said, “but-”
“Aha!” the man cried suddenly. He swooped down and picked up an acorn from the ground. Holding it carefully with his thumb and forefinger he examined it closely with his magnifying glass. “Hmmm. Ahh! Ahum.” he murmured.
“The case is solved!” he said dramatically. “All the evidence points conclusively to the fact that your canary is caught in a badminton net on the roof of the Wellington Hotel in Wallenbash.”
“But how-,” Betsy began.
“So very glad to have been of service! If you ever need help solving a mystery again, feel free to call on me. My name is Joe Bloop, and I own the Bloop Detective Agency. I left a day early for my vacation and am on my way to spend some time camping with friends.”
“Thank you, Mr. Bloop,” Betsy, feeling more than a little confused, called after him as he hurried down the path again.
“Well, I guess it can’t hurt to look, even though it does seem silly.” Betsy said resignedly. “After all, Sarah May did say she has never known him to be wrong.” So Betsy started down the trail to Wallenbash, but with much doubt and little hope in her heart.
Episode 3
When Betsy reached Wallenbash she saw that it was a large town with a many houses and skyscrapers. She walked along the busy sidewalk until she came to the downtown section.
After obtaining directions from a passing policeman she was soon standing in front of the rather imposing Wellington Hotel. It was fully fifteen floors high, an ornate old building of weathered granite. An impressive doorman wearing a splendid uniform of brilliant colors and dazzling gold braid stood impassively by the door. It was obvious to Betsy that this was a hotel for the richest of millionaires and the most important personages.
She gulped down her nervousness and approached the shining, gold trimmed revolving door.
“Excuse me, miss,” the doorman said regally as he descended upon her. “Do you have a reservation?” He looked disapprovingly at her plain cotton frock, which was by this time stained and wrinkled.
“No,” Betsy replied timidly. “But please, I think my canary may be caught in the badminton net on the roof of the hotel. May I please go up to get him?”
The haughty doorman frowned. He was obviously annoyed. “That’s the most ridiculous story I have ever heard! Now, run away and do not bother me any more, little girl.”
“I’m telling the truth!” Betsy protested desperately. “Joe Bloop, the great detective-”
“I’ve no time for games, little girl,” the doorman interrupted scathingly. “Run along now, and no tricks.”
“But-”
“Shoo, shoo!”
With a sigh Betsy turned away and walked down the sidewalk. She felt almost like crying.
“Oh dear,” she sighed as she sank onto a doorstep. “What shall I do now? Poor dear Cheery!”
Before, she had not really believed Joe Bloop’s prediction. But now that this obstacle was thrown in her path she felt strangely convinced that Cheery was on the roof of the hotel.
Just then there was a blinding flash accompanied by a faint boom. When the smoke cleared away Betsy saw an enormous pink elephant standing in front of her.
“What-” she began and then stopped.
“Are you Betsy Remraffe?”- the elephant asked calmly, as if appearing in that alarming fashion was an everyday occurrence. (Which can be explained by the fact that, for him, it was.)
“Yes.” Betsy was still rather dazed by the elephant’s sudden appearance.
“I have a note here that you dropped,” said the elephant. It reached into a worn black satchel it was carrying and drew out a piece of paper.
He handed it to her, and she saw that it was a grocery list which she had lost on the way home from the store about a week ago.
“Thank you,” she said, not knowing what else to say. “But– who are you? And how did you appear so suddenly?”
“I’m called The Pink Elephant here on Earth,” he replied. “I come from a planet far, far away where many other pink elephants like myself live. We pink elephants have a job in the universe, and that is returning dropped notes and papers to people on all the different planets in our galaxy. Earth is one of more than 50 planets in the section I am assigned to.
“The reason I appeared so suddenly is because I use a transporter device. A few years ago I was trying to deliver a note to a certain Mike Cooper, but had a great deal of trouble catching up with him because he moved so often. If my uncle hadn’t helped me invent a transporter, I doubt I would have ever caught up with him.”
“Wow! I never even knew pink elephants existed before!” Betsy exclaimed. “Delivering all those notes on so many different planets must keep you very busy!”
“Yes, it does,” acknowledged The Pink Elephant. “I have already made ten deliveries today just in this city.”
“Oh!” Betsy said. She hesitated a moment. “Did you– have you seen a little yellow canary anywhere in this town?”
“No, I don’t think I have,” he replied. “Are you looking for one?”
Betsy sighed. “Yes. You see, my bird was frightened from his cage yesterday morning and I have been looking for him since then. This morning I met a detective named Joe Bloop on the path to this town. He made a deduction from some clues and said I would find Cheery on the roof of that hotel, caught in a badminton net. But the doorman won’t let me in to look.”
“I know Joe Bloop,” asserted The Pink Elephant. “If he says your canary is on the roof of that building then it’s sure to be there. But the doorman is a problem.”
He thought for a moment with a frown of concentration on his huge pink face. “I know! I can beam you onto the roof with my transporter.”
“Can you really? Oh, thank you!” Betsy cried, her face aglow with hope once again.
“Just climb onto my back and I’ll beam us up to the transporter station.”
With some difficulty Betsy managed to scramble up. The Pink Elephant took a gadget from his satchel and depressed a large red button.
Betsy was conscious of a bright flash and a tickling sensation. When the smoke cleared she found herself in an entirely different place.
They were surrounded by a glass dome. Through the glass was a view of an airless, yet beautiful planet with rolling purple hills abruptly interrupted in places by towering yellow spires. The dome itself was in the midst of a green sandy plateau overlooking the surrounding area.
On either side of Betsy and the Pink Elephant were metal machines as tall as the elephant himself. They were covered with rows of buttons, levers, gauges, knobs, and dials. Glowing tubes arched between the two machines over Betsy’s head.
“Where are we?” Betsy asked in awe.
“This is my transporter station. This planet is called Janaco.” the Pink Elephant informed her.
He began to push buttons and pull levers on the machines. “Let me see… yellow lever up, red button twice– no, it was green button twice– this knob on 3, that one on 9, and this purple lever in the middle setting– or is it down?” Betsy heard him mutter.
“There!” the elephant said after a moment. He pushed a large red button on the console and Betsy again felt a ticking sensation accompanied by a flash of light.
When the smoke drifted away she saw that they were in the middle of a busy alien thoroughfare. Strange looking people with waving tentacles instead of arms and green antennae on their heads were streaming passed them or bartering for merchandise Betsy could not recognize at the many booths lining the street.
“Ooops!” said the Pink Elephant. He pressed the red button on the gadget he held, and once more they were back in the transporter station.
“I’m always pushing the wrong buttons,” he said to Betsy apologetically.
He moved the purple lever to the middle setting and activated the transporter again.
Betsy felt the, by now, familiar sensation of transport and found herself on the roof of the Wellington Hotel.
The area was set up as a sport and recreation area for hotel patrons. There was a badminton net, a tennis court, croquet wickets, and an enclosed swimming pool.
She quickly scrambled down from the elephant’s back and dashed across to the badminton net on the other side of the roof. A small yellow bird was struggling to get free from the entanglement of the net. It chirped plaintively when it saw Betsy.
“Cheery!” Betsy cried in ecstasy. She quickly set her canary free and held him close.
She turned to the Pink Elephant. “Thank you so much, Mr. Pink Elephant! I never would have found him if it hadn‘t been for you.”
Just then a flying saucer zoomed down out of the sky and landed beside them. The door opened and three alien looking men stepped out. They were bright green with yellow polka dots. Wiry blue fuzz stood about two feet tall on the top of their heads. They waved elaborate stun ray blasters in their hands.
The largest one said dramatically, “TAKE ME TO YOUR LEADER!”
The Pink Elephant was not at all alarmed. “Who are you?” he asked.
The aliens looked confused. They stared at the elephant in puzzlement. “Isn’t this Set 9?” asked the one who had spoken before.
“No,” Betsy answered with a giggle. “This is Set 8. Try the next door down the corridor to your left.”
“Ooops!” said the aliens. “Sorry!”
They got back into their flying saucer and zoomed away.
“I’m glad I was able to help you, Betsy,” returned the kindly elephant.
The Pink Elephant offered to take Betsy home
with his transporter. After brief visits to the North Pole and a jungle in
deepest
“Goodbye, Mr. Pink Elephant,” she said. “I can’t thank you enough for all your help!”
“Goodbye, Betsy,” the Pink Elephant replied. He pressed the red button on his transporter gadget and disappeared once more in a blinding flash of light.
Betsy entered the house and put her beloved Cheery back into his cage. “Oh, Cheery! I’m so glad to have you home again!”
The End